


The Gas Station at Six AM

by SleepingReader



Category: Original Work
Genre: Based on a True Story, Gen, experiences, liminal spaces
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-06
Updated: 2019-03-06
Packaged: 2019-11-13 01:40:20
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 534
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18022394
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SleepingReader/pseuds/SleepingReader
Summary: An odd experience I had with a remote gas station in the Netherlands once.





	The Gas Station at Six AM

There is rain in the air, though none falls. The clouds blanket the land in a sheet of grey and white, a slight fog rising from the farmlands as you pull into the remote gas station.  
It’s early, early morning. Some birds are awake, though most brood sleepily on their eggs. Streetlights are still on, and the temperature promises dreariness.

The gas station light flickers. A door opens. It must be the shop, though the lights are off. The windows are as grey as the reflected sky. A brown-and-white terrier hops out of the doorway. He trots a lap around you and the car, almost as if he’s checking the tires for leaks. Then he vanishes into the shop.

A man steps out to see if you need help. The dog must have alerted him.   
He bids you good-morning, in a voice that has been awake for while. You stare up at him, bleary-eyed. It is very early, after all.   
‘’Mornin’ you mutter, not coherent enough to form a correct sentence at the time.   
‘You need help with that?’ The man asks, gesturing to your car.   
You stare at the gas pump, and realise you have parked your car on the wrong side of it. 

The man gently gives you instructions as to how to angle your car so the gas hose will fit into its hole in the side.   
A distant phone rings. The man goes inside the shop to answer it. The dog hops out again. It sits next to you as you stare blankly ahead while pumping your gas.   
It’s so early.   
The dog goes ‘boof’ and you smile down at him. Funny little chap. Looks a little like his owner, something to do with the wiry hair around his whiskers. He stands on his hind legs, his front paws propped up against your knee. The perfect stance for petting while putting gas in your tank. You pat him on the head and he gives you a doggy grin.   
It starts to drizzle. The kind of drizzle that gets under roofs and clings to your hair, to your glasses, to the dog’s wet fur. Little droplets, like spilled dew. 

You check your wallet with the hand not holding the nozzle of the hose. Not enough for gas, you’ll have to pay by card.   
The tank is full. It is cheaper than expected. You look at the store for the owner. The dog looks at you, then at the store, and then at you again.  
He goes ‘boof’  
The terrier, all feet on the ground now, trots cheerfully towards the store again.   
You hear the sound of ‘good boy’, and some bags being crinkled.   
The man walks out again, shutting the door behind him. He is chewing some gum and has brought the PIN machine. 

You exchange some pleasantries about the weather. He offers to clean your windshield, since you’re there anyway. When you make a bad joke about the blossoming trees shedding pollen all over your car, the man makes a relating ‘oof’ sound.  
His hair is covered in the same droplets as yours.

When you leave, you realise you never saw the man and the terrier at the same time.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading!


End file.
